


Blue Christmas

by tlcinbflo



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Christmas, Friendship, Gen, Gift Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9076747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tlcinbflo/pseuds/tlcinbflo
Summary: The Normandy is en route to the Citadel to handle Thane and Garrus' loyalty missions. Thane and Garrus discuss his decision to assassinate Sidonis and the changes that may come to the turian.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedandiestoflions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedandiestoflions/gifts).



> This was written for thedandiestoflions for the MEFFW Facebook group's Secret Santa fic exchange. 
> 
> This was a bit of a challenge for me, and I really hope you enjoy it!

Inebriated laughter rang out through the entirety of the Normandy. 

Thane knew, thanks to his conversations with Shepard, that the end of their time was near. It was a coincidence that the end, both literal and figurative, was coming at the same time as the end of an Earth year. There was a sense of reflection and melancholy among the humans on the ship, and it permeated the rest of the crew. They were left considering those they had left behind and the loose ends that wouldn’t be tied as they faced impossible odds. 

Yet, somehow, tonight was different.

The laughter rang out again and it was almost loud enough to down out the clatter of the scope dropping to the table. It may have startled someone else, but not Thane. The assassin moved his gaze from his own steady hands to the turian sitting at the other end of the table. Garrus shifted. His mandibles twitched and he blinked rapidly. Thane dropped his eyes back to his own work as he considered Garrus’ mood.

The humans were celebrating Christmas. There were twinkling lights decorating the lounge, a fragrant tree set in a corner with baubles and other items that sparkled hanging from it’s stiff branches, and poisonous leaves and berries hung near the doors. These were odd customs used to celebrate the night an obese man in red shimmied down a chimney and left gifts for children who behaved. Thane blinked. Or was it to celebrate the virgin birth of a man who would die to save humanity only to be resurrected a few days later? 

Humans were strange. Yet, maybe the man had been resurrected. Shepard had been. 

Commander Shepard had proven to be quite the capable leader. They made it no secret where they were headed. It was a suicide mission. Shepard even offered to help with their personal demons. Thane had already asked for help with his son, Kolyat. He had done what he could to be sure his son had a better life than he. The last thing he wanted was for Kolyat to end up a killer; for Kolyat to end up like his father.

That thought brought him back to his turian friend. Shepard had helped Garrus track down the person who had betrayed his team on Omega, Sidonis. Garrus was open in his plans – execution – and it was clear he had to qualms about it. Thane was hardly one to lecture when it came to death. As a trained assassin, he had been the weapon on countless occasions and for those kills he held no remorse; just as a gun has no remorse for those it kills.

Yet, there were deaths that weighed on his soul. Deaths that made him wonder if he’d cross the sea and see Irikah again when he took his final voyage. He’d made the same decision Garrus had made. The decision to seek vengeance, to end those who had taken the love of his life, the mother of his child, from him. He knew, as well as he knew his rifle, that if he was faced with the same decision today he would make the same choice. Those who had murdered her were destined to die by his hand the second her soul left her body. 

He considered the man before him. The rage and anger fueling him. The need to avenge his fallen friends, to redeem himself as a leader. They had died on his watch, and Thane knew Garrus felt responsible. Just as Thane felt like he should have been able to save Irikah. If only he’d been there. Thane did not regret his decision to kill, but it was something that changed him on a spiritual level. He wasn’t just the weapon anymore. He had killed because he wanted to. Needed to. He wondered if Garrus was ready to accept that change in himself.

“Garrus,” Thane’s gravel voice felt hollow as the turian turned his hard, cold eyes to his. Thane recognized that look in Garrus’ eyes. This wasn’t a decision Garrus had made lightly. This wasn’t some fly by night choice that Garrus had made without consideration. There was a need there, a desperation. Not for vengeance, though that would be found, but for an absolution that could not be given. Garrus could not atone for their deaths, not until he met them on the other side. 

In the meantime, he could guarantee the person he should have been able to protect them from, the wolf in sheep’s clothing, as the humans say, would not continue to breathe and enjoy the life he had stolen from those in Garrus’ care. Thane could see the determination in Garrus’ eyes as the turian continued to glare at him. Thane held the stare for a long, heated, silent moment. 

“This will not bring them back,” Thane reminded him before returning to his trademark silence. Their half-assembled weapons lay on the table before them as the snipers had a nonverbal conversation. Thane saw the flicker behind the bravado. The grief, the anger, the sadness. Garrus wanted to be cold, calculated, and sure in his decision. He didn’t want to be questioned. Shepard had already questioned him and, in the end, agreed to allow Garrus his vengeance. 

Garrus sighed. His hands rested on the edge of the table and he dropped his head. His talons scratched lightly on the metal surface, an almost musical sound as a low keening whisper slipped through Garrus’ subvocals. Thane remained silent, his warning already spoken. 

“Spirits, Thane, I’m not a fool. I know it won’t bring them back,” Garrus promised. “It just kills me that I didn’t see it. That I was naïve enough to trust him and it got them all killed. He doesn’t deserve to live while the others can’t. I have to do this.”

Thane nodded. “This will change you,” he promised as he picked up his rifle and continued to reassemble it in preparation for their mission. 

Garrus sighed. “I hope so.”

If not for years of training, Thane would have reacted to Garrus’ confession. Instead, he remained stoic and unmoving. His hands still on his weapon and his gaze on Garrus. The turian turned and blue eyes met black. Garrus suddenly seemed vulnerable, younger. Almost, softer. A resigned sigh slipped from Thane as he recognized the pain his friend so easily hid every day. Hiding behind his sarcasm and wit was an old wound, festering and putrid. It needed to be lanced and drained. The dead flesh left by the murder of his friends needed to be scraped away to allow healthy tissue to replace it. Though, it would never be the same. Like the scars adorning his face, the emotional wounds would remain sensitive to stimulation, aching at the slightest reminder of those lost.

Thane sighed quietly, wishing there was some other way to help Garrus heal. There wasn’t. Thane knew that. “You have my hope as well, Garrus.”

Thane’s answer was nearly drowned out by the singing from the human’s gathering. “And when those blue snowflakes start falling… That's when those blue memories start calling… You'll be doin' all right… with your Christmas of white… But I'll have a blue, blue blue blue Christmas.”


End file.
